


Voltron Legendary Patissier

by hazelandglasz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Comfort/Angst, Fluff and Angst, Food Porn, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 18:17:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19910107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: I came across a wonderful drawing by @lemonjuiceday when visiting a con and I was immediately inspired to write this little fic. Nothing major, just a bout of fluff and food porn for our favorite boys (strictly food porn, you pervs ;))Also, Hunk being a badass BFF





	Voltron Legendary Patissier

Lance didn’t expect to find himself in such a position, caught between two hard chests while working his part-time job.

Then again, he didn’t expect his part-time job to be in a bakery.

“A  _ pâtisserie _ , not a bakery,” his boss insists, his fond, exasperated smile growing less and less fond and more and more exasperated with each time he has to repeat it to one of them.

Lance doesn’t blame him, he would be very specific too about his craft if he was … well, as crafty as Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane, his associate and their apprentices.

While Shiro splits his time between the kitchen and the till, Lance strictly works behind the counter, serving the customers and writing down the special orders.

And daydreaming about the way Shiro’s biceps flex so wonderfully in his tight shirt, and how mesmerizing are his eyes when he watches someone trying something new fresh out of the oven …

“Lance?”

And just how  _ beautiful _ he is, inside and out.

“For Apicius’ sake, Lance, snap out of it!”

Lance blinks back into the moment and back to the voice calling his name in such a pissed off manner.

Sure enough, Lance’s binome glares at him, angrily shoving delicate little chouquettes in a paper bag while their customer smiles at them, her eyes moving back between them as if watching a tennis match.

“Yes, my dear colleague, how can I help you?” he replies sweetly--too sweetly to be subtle, if the intensification of Keith’s glare (and of the customer’s giggle) is any indication.

“For the third time, since we apparently lost you in the void between your ears,” Keith replies in the same dulcet tone, “can you, please, if it’s not too much of an imposition for you to move, get in the kitchen and get back mille-feuilles for the showcase?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Lance says, winking at the still-giggling customer while simultaneously hip-checking Keith out of his way, “of course, of course.”

Keith’s sigh still reaches Lance’s ears before the door closes between the two rooms. Lance takes a moment to breathe.

As much as he finds Shiro attractive and amazing, he cannot shake the itch that has crawled under his skin ever since he met Keith Kogane.

A need to punch him in his perfect face, with his fist or with his mouth, the jury is still out on that one.

Keith has seniority over Lance but he also works only in the front of the store. 

And thus lays Lance’s problem.

While he can escape Shiro’s …  _ shironess _ every now and then, Keith’s mindfucking keithness is always around him, hovering, glaring, grumbling in a way that should not be as sexy as it is, dammit.

So, yeah, Lance is in a hell of his own making and, heartache be damned, he loves every minute of it.

##

Okay, this has gone on for too long.

Lance cannot prove it, but he would bet his favorite nerf gun that Shiro is doing it on purpose.

_ It _ here serves as a summary of everything that Shiro does around the shop: carelessly shaking his hips to the sound of the music drifting from the records shop next door, licking the tip of his fingers when he accidentally gets cream on them.

Accidentally, right, as if.

And he supposes Shiro also left a flour handprint on Keith’s ass by accident.

By all that he holds dear, Lance is not mentally equipped to deal with the image of those two together,  _ together _ .

Separately, they are already forces to be reckoned with and Lance tries really har-- _ ahem _ \--he really tries his best to stay professional and not do something stupid, like drool all over them.

But if they are together?

Well, that takes care of his fantasies of dating either of them, but that sparks a fire under the possibility of dating them  _ both _ .

Madre de dios, he’s only human and that’s just, to quote the great 21st-century philosopher Bruno Mars, too hot, hot damn.

Lance sighs before shaking his head.

He needs to focus. If he cannot have the man, men, whatever, of his dreams, then he’s going to work, and have one aspect of his life that will be successful.

Oh, they’re out of  [ Divorcés ](http://www.amasauce.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/pac-divorces.jpg) .

As there are no customers in the shop at the moment, Lance skips to the kitchen to get a tray of the delicious pastry.

Except that there is a conversation taking place that he is not supposed to hear and cannot resist anyway.

“... insane, Shiro.”

“It would be complicated, sure, but--”

“Complicated? Try disastrous. You know that I agree with you on how attractive he is, but bringing  _ him _ into our relationship? Let me spell it out for you: D-I-S-...”

“Keith …”

“Shiro …”

“Come on, babe,” a soft, wet sound pauses the conversation, “you’re always ranting about ways to shut him up.”

A soft laugh answers that, one that Lance would definitely characterize as a giggle if it didn’t come out of Keith “Badass” Kogane’s lips.

“You think that would do the trick?”

“No,” Shiro replies, laughter in the back of his voice, “but maybe you wouldn’t object if what came out of that beautiful, pouty mouth was moans and your name.”

“Or yours.”

“Or both.”

“God, Shiro …”

More wet sound that leaves little to Lance’s overactive imagination, and he flees the hallway to get back to the safety of the bright shop, where no one talks about threesomes and moaning and beautiful bodies intertwined …

Lance snaps his eyes shut and takes a deep breath just as the bell over the door rings.

“Welcome to Paladelicious, how can I sweeten your day?” he says reflexively, putting a smile on his face.

If he focuses on his job, he’ll find a way to bury his feelings, be it his lust or his jealousy over the man Shiro and Keith apparently want to bring into their bed.

_ Lucky bastard. _

##

Or he can quit.

Lance doesn’t want to, he really likes this job, especially since he adores the world of pastry and really could see himself thriving in this field.

But.

This is just too painful.

He knows that neither Shiro nor Keith saw him eavesdropping on them, but ever since that day, Keith’s glare only intensified and Shiro is …

Well, Shiro is Shiro, welcoming and warm like a cozy sweater and a hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkled on top, but there is something behind his gaze that pulls on Lance’s heartstrings.

It’s with a heavy heart indeed that Lance came to the conclusion that he has to leave Paladelicious, and he’s not the only one already regretting it.

“Dude.”

“Hunk, don’t try to change my mind.”

“B-but, Lance!” Hunk still continues while Lance keeps on writing his resignation letter to Shiro--yes, he’s taking the cowards way out of writing to instead of facing Shiro, but can anyone really blame him?

“Lance, Lance, Lance, Lance, I’ll continue to say your name until you stop and look at me, Lance, Lance, Lance, L--”

“Hunk! Stop it,” Lance replies, making the rookie mistake of looking up at his best friend.

Because in spite of his height and bulk, the only real danger coming from Hunk Garrett is his puppy eyes.

“You don’t  _ really  _ want to leave us, do you Lance?”

“Of course I don’t  _ want _ to!” Lance explodes. “But the alternative, it’s just too … too much for my--”

Before Lance can finish his sentence, his mouth finds itself otherwise occupied.

With an oversized chou, which is definitely on the petit side.

“Hmph!!!”

“Eat.”

“Hunpbdfrr!”

“You’ll thank me later. No one can be as moody as you were after my praline’d crème pat. And then we can close this silly conversation.”

As reluctant as he may be, Lance has to admit it: Hunk’s crème patissiere could ungrump the grumpiest of Grumps.

“Grumph.”

“Swallow.”

Lance laughs, most of the chou soothing his soul and filling his stomach already. “You know I always do.”

Behind them, at the piano, Pidge tsks as they boil several caramels in copper pans.

“Now, do you still want to leave? That means no more free goodies.”

“You’d still feed me some goodies when we get together, Hunk, don’t lie to yourself.”

Hunk blushes. “You’re probably right. But no more trying out my ideas if you’re not here.”

“You wanna leave?”

All three heads turn toward the door where Keith is standing, face even paler than usual and, oh dear Lord who has no mercy on Lance, hair tied in a messy bun.

Hunk and Pidge turn to Lance, a question in their eyes.  _ What are you going to do now? _

“I--I have considered it,” Lance mumbles. “May be best for everybody, all things considered.”

_ Even though I don’t  _ want _ to. Even though it will hurt like a thousand knives dipped in hot sauce. _

“But, I thought we--we bonded ...,”Keith opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, eyebrows going from a frown to sad before settling on anger again; funny how Lance never noticed how expressive those eyebrows were before.

“Fine,” Keith finally says, voice a lot colder than it ever was. “Do whatever you want, like I care. Not having to deal with you will bemmph?!”

Apparently, chou-shoving is Hunk’s move of the day.

“Do not. Finish. That sentence.” Hunk’s voice is frighteningly normal. Lance would be glad not to be on the receiving end of that tone if his mind was not replaying Keith’s words on repeat, with added acidic commentary.

_ Like I care. See, silly, he really does not need you in his life, not even as a co-worker so can you imagine  _ dating _ him? It’s a wonder how you can even walk and breathe at the same time. Time for you to be useless somewhere else. _

“Hunk, what the hell?!”

“We want Lance to stay and you are being mean.”

“You could have killed me!”

“With a chou? A deadly weapon for sure.”

“Guys?”

“What?”

“Lance left.”

Hunk glares at Keith. “Go fix what you broke.”

“But …”

“I am not afflicted with Lance’s obliviousness. Go; get him back. For everybody’s sake.”

Keith repeats his goldfish impression before giving Hunk a firm nod and rushing out.

Hunk picks a chou from the plate and munches on it. “Stupid men being stupid, am I right?”

Pidge nods vigorously, opening the chou open to suck on the creme. “Men being men, then.”

“Hey!”

“Not all men are as wise as you, Mr Garrett.”

“A’right, can’t deny it.”

##

Shiro doesn’t say a word, once Keith is done explaining what just happened in the lab.

He doesn’t frown, he doesn’t glare, he doesn’t yell.

He stands, shakes his head and opens the door to his office, aka the door to the back alley behind the store, nodding toward his bike.

Overall, Keith feels shittier than he did when he heard Hunk talking about Lance leaving, which is saying something.

He almost would have preferred for Shiro to scream at him.

At a redlight between the store and Lance’s place, Shiro pats Keith’s hands crossed over his stomach.

In Shironese, that pat means “it will be okay but you fucked up, my love.”

Keith tightens his hold on him.

In Keithan, that means “I am so sorry I got scared I fucked please forgive me.”

Since Lance took the bus back to his place, the three of them arrive at the same time.

Keith can see the moment Lance spots them on Shiro’s bike: Lance’s eyes widen and he stumbles.

“Lance, can we have a word?”

God bless Shiro for keeping his cool.

“What more is there to say?” Lance replies dejectedly with the saddest shrug Keith has ever witnessed. Now that he’s closer, Keith can see how red his eyes are and how pink his nose, and he cannot help the mixed feelings of guilt and adoration for the man standing in front of them that threaten to submerge him.

“I think Keith here has something to say,” Shiro replies softly, not so gently nudging Keith forward. “And I wouldn’t mind adding my two cents to what seems to be a classic miscommunication-provoked mess.”

Lance considers them, the unhappy downturn of his mouth increasing until he sighs, dropping his head to his chest. “Fine, come on up.”

Shiro and Keith exchange a look before following Lance up the flights of stairs leading to his apartment.

Keith spares a second to take in his environment and he has to repress the smile that threatens to appear at the sight around him. Lance’s place looks, well, it looks like him, warm and just a little bit messy but inviting and comfortable.

“Keith?” Shiro calls him, one eyebrow raised perfectly to push Keith to get on with his apology already.

Keith turns to Lance with a deep, strengthening breath. “Lance, I--I’m sorry for what I said back at the shop. I felt, um, I was hurt by the idea of you leaving us so suddenly, because, well, I--I, err, don’t want you to leave. The shop. Or,” he pauses, blidnly reaching for Shiro behind him, “or us, really.”

Lance’s eyes drop to their joined hands and if anything, his arms tighten around his torso.

Almost as if he’s trying to hold himself together.

“We don’t want you to leave,” Shiro repeats, taking a step toward Lance while still holding Keith’s hand. 

Lance’s frown increases. “‘S not like I’m such an important cog in the Paladelicious’ machine,” he mumbles, turning his back to them.

Shiro blinks before sighing fondly. Keith is familiar with that sigh.

It’s Shiro’s “God knows why I am getting myself in such a mess, but boy do I love every minute with you” sigh.

“Lance,” he says quietly, letting go of Keith’s hand to put both his hands on Lance’s shoulders, “I didn’t say a word about my store.”

Lance freezes before following the motion Shiro’s hands are provoking.

When he faces them again, his eyes are wide and shiny. “What are you sayin’?”

“I’m saying that we,” Shiro moves his hands from Lance’s shoulders to his cheeks, “want you in our lives.”

Lance’s mouth parts open, eyes darting to Keith. “Both of you? You--with me?”

Keith takes the one step separating him from the two other men and cups the back of Lance’s head. “Both of us, with you,” he whispers before leaning over Shiro’s arm to lightly press his lips to Lance.

_ Pina colada flavored lip balm. Of course. _

Lance laughs and hiccups at the same time, resulting in an adorable “meep” sound. With one hand, he covers Shiro’s hand on his cheek while the other reaches for Keith’s waist.

“What do you say?” Shiro asks, voice barely above a murmur as he runs his nose along Lance’s temple before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I--I say,” Lance starts before pausing, eyes fluttering shut as Shiro continues on kissing down his cheek and jaw, “I say that I’m all in, baby!”

Both Shiro and Keith lean in to kiss Lance, which results in quite a messy situation where noses are bumped and lips don’t necessarily meet the previously aimed for location, but neither of them would have it any other way.

“Hey!” Lance exclaims, pushing both men away. “Does that mean you want to shut me up? I resent tha--mph!”

As a matter of fact, it turns out that Shiro was right.

Kissing the living Hell out of Lance is a perfectly efficient technique to shut him up.

The End.


End file.
